Awkwardly Yours

                        🐔 The Chicken Who Went to Office Chapter 1: The Job Hunt Begins It all started when Babu the Chicken got tired of farm life. "I’m done laying eggs and dodging foxes," Babu clucked. "I want a real job. A desk job. With AC." So one fine Monday, wearing a red tie and sneakers, Babu caught the bus to the city. Every passenger stared at him.   “Excuse me,” said an old man, “are you… a chicken?” “I was a chicken. I’m a professional now,” Babu replied, adjusting his tie. Chapter 2: The Interview Babu applied at “Eggcellent Tech Solutions.” The receptionist, clearly alarmed, whispered into her walkie-talkie. Still, Babu was called in. The interviewer, Mr. Raman, adjusted his glasses. “You… lay eggs?” “Only on weekends.” “And you’re applying for… software engineer?” Babu leaned forward confidently. “I pecked code on the farm. HTML. Hen Text Markup Language.” Mr. Raman laughed so hard he hired Babu o...

Monday, 10th July The world is a wretched place, my dear inkpot, and I—Kalikanta, the philosopher of the half-empty glass—am its most qualified critic. This morning, my landlady, Mrs. Ghosh, rapped on my door like a woodpecker with a personal vendetta. "Rent!" she shrieked. I replied, "Madam, I am currently investing in spiritual research—liquid enlightenment, you see." She called me a "worthless drunk." How unjust! I am not worthless; my whiskey bottles have a resale value.   I stumbled to the bazaar, where the fishmonger, a man with the charm of a wet cat, swore his hilsa was "fresh from the Ganga." I retorted, "As fresh as your lies, my friend—this fish has seen more of Calcutta’s gutters than I have!" (Note: I bought it anyway. Hunger is the great equalizer.)   Tuesday, 11th July A most peculiar tragedy: My last rupee eloped with a street urchin who claimed to be my "long-lost nephew." I celebrated this financial liberat...

                   You know those moments where your brain goes, “Do it!” before your dignity has a chance to vote? Well, there I was—walking confidently through the grocery store parking lot—when I saw a man wave enthusiastically in my direction. Naturally, I waved back. With gusto. Only problem? He was waving at someone behind me. I turned, saw a woman giving me a confused look, and did what any socially awkward human would do: I pretended to be waving at an imaginary bird. Yes. A bird. This blog is for every cringey moment that made you want to crawl into a hoodie and stay there.  Welcome to Awkwardly Yours.